


5 Times Daisuke and Ken Kissed Drunk + 1 Time They Kissed Sober

by Anatui



Category: Digimon - All Media Types, Digimon Adventure Zero Two | Digimon Adventure 02
Genre: 5+1 Things, Accidental Kissing, Birthday Party, Clueless Ichijouji Ken, College/University, Denial of Feelings, Developing Relationship, Drinking Games, Drunken Kissing, First Kiss, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, High School, Ichijouji Ken Is a Panicked Gay, Idiots in Love, Kissing It Better, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Party Games, Smitten Motomiya Daisuke | Davis Motomiya, Surprise Kissing, Team as Family, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:22:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22700080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anatui/pseuds/Anatui
Summary: "You're going to be fine," Ken said, sending his best friend a reassuring smile, fingers still holding his face.Daisuke pouted, eyes comically wide. "Sure I will."He rolled his eyes, but amusement tugged one corner of his mouth upward. "What, you need me to kiss it better?"The pout increased dramatically. "It certainly wouldn't hurt."Ken released a low chuckle, stepped closer, and pressed a kiss to Daisuke's jaw where it was reddest.They held still for a moment, Ken's lips lingering mere centimeters from his mouth, Daisuke remaining frozen far longer than he ever had in the past. Now, his wide eyes were a sign of shock.Then, Daisuke shifted.ORDaisuke and Ken can't seem to stop kissing when they get drunk. It's obviously the alcohol. There are no feelings involved. It definitely doesn't mean anything.
Relationships: Ichijouji Ken/Motomiya Daisuke | Davis Motomiya
Comments: 4
Kudos: 46
Collections: Ana's 2020 Writing Challenge, Daiken Discord Server





	5 Times Daisuke and Ken Kissed Drunk + 1 Time They Kissed Sober

**Author's Note:**

> My last fic was super angsty, so this one is a little more fun...

**1**

The night of Taichi's twentieth birthday, Taichi and Yamato hosted a small party for the Chosen Children at their apartment in Hongo, not far from the University of Tokyo's campus. The trip from Tamachi was only half an hour, so Daisuke had met Ken at his apartment earlier that day before they had traveled there together with plans to stay the night.

Because Taichi's twentieth birthday definitely meant consuming alcohol, and there was no way Ken would let Daisuke or himself return to his parents' apartment in a state that was anything but sober.

Of course, that didn't mean Ken had any intention to drink. They were only sixteen, and studies showed—

"Oh, come on, Ken." Daisuke buried an irritated moan in his fist. "Don't be such a stick in the mud."

Studies didn't mean anything to Daisuke, who's only goal was to enjoy the evening in every sense of the word. It was his senpai's birthday party, after all, and if Taichi was going to get trashed, Daisuke'd figured he should at least get a little drunk. This was their first real opportunity, and he'd been deathly curious.

Not that Daisuke needed to be curious anymore. He was definitely drunk now.

Ken sent him a glare through a curtain of black hair in the lowlight and turned away. He'd so far refused any proffered drink, belligerently to Daisuke's dismay, and spent the first couple hours observing the rest of the Chosen Children and occasionally chatting with Miyako or Koushiro or Takeru.

Plus, of course, Daisuke.

Who grabbed the nearest object—an empty can of Asahi beer, the kind he was drinking—and chucked it at his head, but Ken easily dodged it.

Obviously, Daisuke was becoming decidedly less tolerable as the evening wore on.

"It's Taichi-senpai's birthday," came the following sharp whine. "One drink. It's just a little beer."

Ken kept his voice low but firm when he said, "Daisuke, we're underage."

"I didn't realize that made you a coward." He cocked an eyebrow—a challenge—and offered the can of beer one more time.

But Ken would not be persuaded.

Not far away, Yamato leaned against the counter, sipping from his own can, amusement flashing across his eyes as the pair bickered. And when Daisuke finally gave up—for now at least—and stomped away to spend more time with the birthday boy, Ken slumped against the wall beside him with a sigh.

"Daisuke got you down?" Yamato asked, an eyebrow arched.

Ken frowned. "He refuses to see eye to eye."

"Well, you did come to a party knowing full well there'd be drinking. This _is_ Taichi's twentieth." Yamato shrugged. "Why'd you bother coming?"

Ken sent him an unamused glance.

"Ah, right." His eyes sought out the two boisterous goggle boys, talking animatedly, all wild hand gestures and splashing beers—a fact they hadn't noticed and probably wouldn't. "Daisuke didn't give you a choice, did he?"

"If I didn't come," Ken said in a quiet, contemplative voice, "I probably wouldn't see him all weekend. He's going to be hung over tomorrow, and I doubt he'll want to do anything but lie on your couch until you guys kick him out."

Yamato laughed into his beer. "Eh, Taichi'll probably being passed out on top of him, and I don't want to deal with _that_ …so I guess he can stay here all day tomorrow." He sent Ken a sidelong glance. "You can stay all day tomorrow too."

"What?"

He shrugged. "If you don't wanna drink, that's cool. I'm just saying, if you change your mind, you don't have to worry about heading all the way back to Tamachi tonight."

Ken considered him a moment before nodding. "Thank you. I appreciate that, Yamato-san."

"Besides," Yamato added, his voice low in a conspiratorial whisper, "he only wants you to drink because he wants to know you're having fun."

_Slam!_

They turned sharply.

Mimi stood in the kitchen on the other side of the counter, her hand around the neck of a large bottle of sake. "Taichi-san! Get your ass over here," she yelled through the window into the living room. "Birthday shots!"

Taichi and Yamato didn't even have shot glasses for everyone, though, so she pulled out an assortment of tumblers and poured a couple shots in each as Taichi bounded over and the group gathered round.

All of a sudden, Taichi and therefore Daisuke pushed into the small space between Ken and Yamato, Daisuke's arm pressing close to Ken's chest, and Taichi had a protesting Koushiro by the wrist. Not far away, Takeru and Hikari watched with equally worrisome smiles at Taichi's exaggerated antics—he was quite drunk already, and that would only increase as the evening progressed. At the back of the group were Sora, who didn't look particularly pleased about the idea of shots, and Miyako, who clasped her hands together in excitement.

Only Iori and Jyou remained in the living room, chatting amicably; Jyou had already finished the one beer he intended to drink for the evening, and to no one's surprise, Iori was fully abstaining from alcohol.

When Mimi finished pouring, there were ten cups on the counter, ready to be consumed, and everyone began to reach for them all at once.

Everyone except Ken.

He waited for the rest of the group to grab the drinks, hoping there wouldn't be any left, knowing he was wrong, certain he hadn't miscounted, begging good fortune to shine on him.

But as everyone pulled away, there remained one single cup, poured for him.

No such luck.

Ken sent a hopeful glance into the living room, but neither Iori nor Jyou would join them, and he was well aware of that. The two had made it very clear they weren't participating in any of Taichi's drunken birthday shenanigans.

Right, Taichi's birthday.

That only happened once a year, and this _was_ a special one. His proper coming of age.

Hesitantly, he grabbed the last tumbler and held it up, mimicking the toasting pose everyone else had taken. Beside him, Daisuke, quite tipsy by now, beamed at him.

"To Taichi!" Mimi shouted with glee, lifting her cup. "With good fortune for your twenty-first year."

Echoes of "Kanpai!" surrounded him, Ken rushing to keep up, and everyone tossed their heads back to drain the cups. Ken was the last to swallow his drink, though he rather wished he hadn't participated when the sake burned his throat and he nearly coughed up a lung.

Daisuke slapped his back a few times to help with the cough—not that it did—and grinned at him when he recovered, thoroughly pleased that Ken was finally getting into the party.

When Daisuke looked at him like that, Ken couldn't deny him anything.

Besides, one beer couldn't do any harm. Not really. And it certainly couldn't taste as terrible going down as that sake did.

The harm didn't come till he was halfway through his second beer, giggling at one of Daisuke's ridiculous jokes—they were much more fun after a little alcohol—and smiling like this was the best night of his life.

To be fair, the actual _harm_ was all Taichi's fault.

He was the one who thought it would be a good idea to show off a few superior juggling moves to Koushiro while severely drunk. 

Koushiro didn't even look interested till the ball almost hit him the first time, but even with Taichi drunk off his ass, he had no trouble keeping the soccer ball from poor Koushiro. And unfortunately, Yamato had had one beer too many to confiscate the dangerous item from his best friend and roommate's hands before things got out of control.

Which happened very quickly.

Specifically when Taichi kicked the checkered ball into the air just a little too hard and at the absolute worst angle. The ball slapped a wall and ricocheted straight at Daisuke's face, smacking him in the chin.

Daisuke's fourth beer splashed all over his shirt, a few drops splattering onto Ken as well, and Daisuke clutched his jaw in pain while Yamato screamed at Taichi not to play soccer in the apartment. Or while drunk. Or ever, ever again until he got his shit together and stopped being a giant disaster of a human being. (Taichi practically cackled during Yamato's tirade.)

Ken quickly set his drink on the counter and hovered close. "Let me take a look at it," he murmured, nudging Daisuke's fingers aside.

It certainly was red and uncomfortable to move, but the injury wasn't anything to be concerned about.

"You're going to be fine," Ken said, sending his best friend a reassuring smile, fingers still holding his face.

Daisuke pouted, eyes comically wide. "Sure I will."

He rolled his eyes, but amusement tugged one corner of his mouth upward. "What, you need me to kiss it better?"

The pout increased dramatically. "It certainly wouldn't hurt."

Ken released a low chuckle, stepped closer, and pressed a kiss to Daisuke's jaw where it was reddest.

They held still for a moment, Ken's lips lingering mere centimeters from his mouth, Daisuke remaining frozen far longer than he ever had in the past. Now, his wide eyes were a sign of shock.

Then, Daisuke shifted.

Just when Ken was about to pull back, their mouths brushed, and he paused.

Daisuke took a shaky breath, Ken licked his lips, his tongue catching a trace of his chapped lips, and all at once, a hand plunged into his hair and tugged him closer, sealing their mouths together in a bruising kiss.

It didn't last long, but Ken felt dizzy.

He excused himself to the bathroom, where he spent a good few minutes panicking about what the hell just happened and how the hell they were going to deal with that.

Except…

When he returned to the festivities, Daisuke was talking to Taichi and Yamato, joking and laughing and throwing his arms around like he's telling the most entertaining story in the world. The moment he saw Ken, he called out to him with a shout and a wave of his arm and a grin as bright as the sun. Just like nothing had happened.

They didn't speak of it the rest of the night.

Or in the morning.

Or any time the next day before Ken took the train back to Tamachi.

At which point Ken realized they probably wouldn't ever talk about it. That was probably the safest, smartest thing to do. Pretend it never happened.

Besides, it's not like it would ever happen again, right?

**2**

Sometime during summer break the following year, Mimi gathered the group together for a slumber party at her parents' house. The older kids, she insisted, needed a proper break from university life, and of course, those still in high school would never be left out of the fun.

Mimi also insisted on playing a few party games she'd picked up in America.

Specifically one called Spin the Bottle.

Ken had only loosely heard of it before, but he wasn't keen on party games and had no interest in playing.

That, of course, didn't mean he got to sit out. Daisuke would never stand for that.

So the group sat in a circle in the middle of the Tachikawas' enormous living room around an empty Ramune soda bottle while she explained the rules.

That was the moment Ken realized he _really_ didn't didn't want to play.

But Daisuke nudged his drink back into his hand and shook his head. "We're playing, Ichijouji. Finish your drink if you're nervous." And he ran back to the table to grab his own drink, only to find his seat usurped by Takeru upon his return.

Ken looked on helplessly as Daisuke was forced to take the only open spot between Taichi and Jyou, the latter of whom looked particularly displeased at being included, and he swallowed down the rest of his drink in the hopes that it would help him feel better.

It didn't.

He got up while Mimi was adding a few extra rules to refill his cup. Drank half of it right there in the kitchen, then refilled it again before joining the group.

Mimi went first, just to give them a proper idea how to play.

She spun the bottle hard, giggling with glee, and it circled the room until the spinning started to make Ken dizzy. Only then did it finally land on Miyako, who flushed at the prospect.

Then the room watched in utter silence as Mimi slinked across the circle toward her young friend and dragged her into a kiss.

A kiss that lasted a good couple minutes.

And definitely included tongue.

When they parted, Mimi returned to her seat and Sora, who sat to her left, spun the bottle. Somehow, it managed to land on Yamato, and Ken took another drink as the couple shared a chaste kiss before the bottle passed on to the next participant.

He didn't pay much attention after that.

Iori, Koushiro, and Hikari all took turns, and the room filled with laughter, but Ken buried himself in his drink. By the time it was his turn, he'd drained his cup once again.

Ken fiddled with the Codd-neck bottle a moment, somewhat anxious the bottle would slip from his fingers before he managed to give it a good spin. When he finally twisted his wrist and sent it spinning in the center of the circle, he leaned back and glared at his empty cup, unable to focus on the bottle, even as it determined the method of his misfortune.

It wasn't until the room erupted into loud laughter that he realized it had stopped.

On Daisuke.

Ken worried his bottom lip, but well, rules were rules, he supposed.

He set his empty cup on the floor behind him and crawled toward his best friend, who stared with an anxious spark in his eyes and an uncertain smile. He started to say something, but Ken grabbed the front of his shirt and cut his words off with his mouth.

It took Daisuke a couple seconds to register, but he grabbed Ken by the nape of the neck and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss.

Ken didn't know how long it lasted. Only that his tongue was in Daisuke's mouth, and he rather liked having it there—and then Daisuke's tongue was in _his_ mouth, and he liked that even more. And he definitely liked Daisuke's hand tugging on his hair and the way Daisuke's breath trembled and Daisuke's low groan when Ken scraped his teeth over his bottom lip.

They only broke apart when they needed to breathe.

And then Ken remembered where they were and what was happening and who was watching them, and he darted back to his seat and refused to look at Daisuke for the rest of the game.

"Damn, Ken-kun," Takeru whispered after he and a couple others had taken their turns. "Nobody expected you to kiss him on the mouth."

Ken stared at him.

Takeru raised an eyebrow, not even bothering to hide his amusement. "Mimi-san said kissing the cheek is fair game, remember? Or do you really expect me to make out with my brother?"

No, Ken didn't remember her saying that. He must not have been paying attention.

But it was okay.

It was just a game, after all. They were being good sports by playing along.

Plus, you know, the alcohol. He'd definitely had too much to drink, and Daisuke was obviously drunk. Alcohol made you do stupid things that you didn't mean.

Thankfully, they didn't drink often—they _were_ still underage for another two years, though that never stopped Taichi and Mimi from encouraging them—so there was nothing to worry about. It certainly wouldn't happen again.

**3**

Miyako hosted a Christmas party the following year since she was back from her study abroad for the month. It was a small get-together—just her, Iori, Hikari, Takeru, Daisuke, and himself—but that didn't stop Miyako from going all out with the decorations and food.

She was twenty now, so she bought some umeshu and some yuzu to make hot toddies for the group.

Daisuke wasn't a fan—"Why the hell is there a cinnamon stick in here, Miyako? What the fuck?"—but that didn't stop him from downing them at way too fast a pace.

Ken, on the other hand, rather liked them compared to the beer and sake they'd tried in the past. This seemed much more refined, even if it was only the alcohol, honey, water, lemon, and some spices. Plus, it was warming for a cold winter day.

Miyako put on some holiday music and bounced around the apartment to make sure everything was moving along smoothly. Hikari pulled out a Christmas cake she'd made for the occasion while Takeru and Iori played riichi mahjong on the couch. Daisuke hung out in the kitchen, feet dangling from his stool, and watched Hikari put the finishing touches on her cake—she had to slap a hand away from the strawberries and whipped cream multiple times.

Ken, though, leaned against an arched doorway, watching his friends interact and enjoy a calm evening for once, a soft smile spreading across his face. They couldn't all get together often, but when they did, it was as if nothing had changed. That sent a warmth through his body.

Although, maybe that was the alcohol.

" _Out!_ "

Ah.

He'd been waiting for that.

Hikari finally got fed up with Daisuke's attempts to steal the dessert, and Miyako came to her aid immediately and pushed him away from the kitchen.

Daisuke grumbled but clutched his cup to his chest as he retreated. In a huff, he slumped against the wall on the opposite side of Ken's chosen doorway and practically growled into his drink. "I just wanted _one_ strawberry."

Ken laughed—a loud, full laugh that told him he'd probably had too much to drink already. "Sure, Motomiya. When are you ever satisfied with _just_ one?"

His best friend sent him a sharp glare.

"Oh, look," Miyako cooed from where Daisuke had previously sat, drawing everyone's attention. "Somebody found the mistletoe."

Ken frowned and glanced around. Then realized everyone was staring at _him_.

Well, at him and Daisuke.

He looked up.

Yes, there was a sprig of mistletoe dangling from the ceiling above them. And while it wasn't a tradition he'd ever participated in, he knew what was supposed to happen next.

He dared a glance at Daisuke.

Who was staring at him, teeth tugging on his bottom lip.

But it was just mistletoe.

And the alcohol made it less weird.

So Ken swallowed the last of his drink, set the empty cup on the nearby table, and gave his best friend a soft kiss.

Daisuke's mouth was hot and welcoming, and without pause, his arms wrapped around Ken's torso and pulled him flush, chest against chest.

And Ken was definitely not complaining.

Kissing Daisuke was nice, comfortable, warm. It made his whole body throb with the pounding of his heart. And quite frankly, he tasted delicious.

So no, he didn't complain.

Instead, he leaned into the kiss, supporting his position with a hand on the wall by Daisuke's head, and delved his tongue inside that delectable mouth.

And if Ken happened to moan, it definitely had to do with the alcohol. Not the way Daisuke sucked on his tongue or dragged his teeth over his bottom lip or squeezed their bodies together in a tight embrace. That had nothing to do with it. Nothing at all.

When they separated, Ken felt a little lightheaded and quickly excused himself to the bathroom to collect his bearings. He used the toilet, splashed some water on his face, and then stared at his flushed reflection.

Flushed from the alcohol, of course.

Definitely not from the kiss.

That would be ridiculous.

He took a deep breath and forced a pleasant smile before heading back out.

**4**

The following August was Daisuke's twentieth birthday, and while they were getting a bit old for exchanging presents, it was tradition. Of course, Daisuke hadn't been any help when Ken had asked for suggestions.

Taichi and Yamato had taken Daisuke out for drinks on the night of his actual birthday, but as many of their friends were still underage—his best friend included—and his birthday had fallen in the middle of the week, he'd also invited everyone over to his apartment in Shinjuku, only a short walk from the culinary academy where he took classes.

Ken, of course, would be the first to arrive, like always.

Without anything to go on, he'd settled on buying Daisuke a nice wool scarf since the baka always insisted on wearing shorts, even in winter. But he still second-guessed his choice the whole walk to the apartment.

Daisuke answered the door, grinning from ear to ear. "What took you so long?" He grabbed his best friend by the wrist and dragged him inside the apartment and into a hug. "Come on," he said, pulling away. "I've still got a little left of the bottle Yamato-san bought me on Wednesday. Let's do some shots."

With a frown, Ken set his satchel aside and followed him into the kitchen, where Daisuke poured them a couple shots. They downed them quickly.

And then he poured two more.

Ken slowed down after that—he still wasn't particularly keen on alcohol use, especially since he still had a couple months before he came of age—but Daisuke was happily buzzed by the time everyone else arrived.

And once Taichi and Yamato were there, a couple more bottles of alcohol in their arms, there was no saving the party. Taichi, and Yamato to a lesser extent, had always liked to dote on Daisuke, and for his twentieth birthday, that definitely meant refilling his cup every time it was empty.

Ken frowned into his cup.

He knew now that he should have given Daisuke his present before everyone got there. He was far too drunk to enjoy it now. Hell, with how much Taichi and Yamato had poured for him, he might not remember receiving it.

Besides, gifts were much better given when it was just the two of them.

Luckily, Ken was staying the night—he'd packed a change of clothes and a few toiletries into his satchel—and now that he thought about it, he really should have put his things in Daisuke's room instead of leaving them out where all the drunk people would be.

He finished his drink, grabbed his satchel from the pile of bags and jackets, and headed for Daisuke's room. He could use a breather anyway. The apartment held enough people the air was stifling.

"Ken?" Daisuke's voice followed him down the hallway. "Hey, Ken! Where are you going?"

He cast a glare behind him, where his very drunk best friend was following him. "You don't need to shout."

Then, Ken opened the door to Daisuke's bedroom and slipped inside, Daisuke on his heels. He set the satchel on the dresser and turned to head out.

"What are you doing?" Daisuke was right in his face.

Ken sent a glance over his shoulder. "I wanted to move my things in here before they got mixed up with everyone else's. Why?"

His best friend's face lit up. "You're staying the night."

Ken cocked an eyebrow. "Of course I am."

Daisuke giggled, thoroughly pleased, and moved to flop down into a sitting position on his bed. "It's my birthday."

"It's your birthday _party_."

"Aren't you having a good time?"

Ken shrugged and moved to sit on the edge of the mattress too. "You've been busy most of the time. We haven't gotten to spend time together since everyone else arrived."

Daisuke grinned. "We're here now."

He nodded. "We are."

"You're not that drunk are you?"

"A little drunk," he admitted. "Not nearly as drunk as you, though, birthday boy."

Daisuke bit his lip, and then his eyes lit up. "Oh! You know how you kept asking me for ideas for my present?"

Ken nodded.

He threw himself backward onto the mattress and laughed at the ceiling. "I know what I want. I know what I want you to give me."

"And what's that?"

Daisuke pushed up on his elbows. "A kiss?"

For a moment, Ken froze, simply staring at his best friend, who looked so innocent and unaware of what such a suggestion meant, of why it was a bad idea.

Then again, Daisuke was very drunk.

And you know, Ken was somewhat drunk too.

And it was Daisuke's birthday.

If all he wanted was a little kiss, what was the harm in that? He was twenty years old now, and he'd still never had a proper girlfriend. A kiss was reasonable, right?

"Okay," Ken said before shifting for a better angle.

He leaned over Daisuke, a hand on either side of his head, and covered the birthday boy's mouth with his.

Daisuke was never this drunk when they'd kissed in the past, and it definitely showed. His mouth was messy and uncoordinated, but he more than made up for it with enthusiasm. He threaded his fingers through Ken's soft hair while his other hand wrapped around his waist and slipped under his shirt, sending a shiver down Ken's spine.

When teeth nipped at his bottom lip, Ken gasped, and Daisuke took him by surprise when he slid his tongue inside and dragged him onto his lap. A long, pleased moan escaped his mouth, and Ken trembled at the addictive vibrations.

Ken lost track of how long they kissed, how long Daisuke traced sensual patterns under his shirt, how long their hips, their thighs, their very cores were pressed flush together in a delectable way that gave Ken far too many ideas of what he wanted to happen next.

And then someone knocked on the open doorway.

They tore apart, and Ken flushed a deep red.

Takeru smirked in the doorway. "Mimi-san brought you a birthday cake, you know. What do you think of coming out and eating it?" He raised an eyebrow. "But if you two are going to have your own celebration in here, maybe you should shut the door?"

Ken's flush deepened. That was definitely just the alcohol.

Daisuke, on the other hand, bolted upright. "Mimi brought cake?!" He was out the door before Ken or Takeru could say anything.

Leaving the two of them alone.

Takeru stared at him, eyebrow raised in a challenge.

Ken glared. "Whatever you're thinking, stop."

"Who said I was thinking anything, Ken-kun?"

"Nothing was happening."

The blond's smirk widened. "If you say so."

Ken certainly did say so.

It was just a little alcohol. It wasn't a big deal.

**5**

Once Ken had come of age, he was a lot more relaxed about drinking, though he hadn't developed anything more than a passing desire for drunkenness. He doubted it would ever appeal to him. Not really. But Daisuke seemed to enjoy it on a semi-regular basis, and that meant he dragged Ken along for the ride.

Usually, if they drank, it was as a group. Or at least with Taichi and Yamato, who seemed to find drunk Daisuke absolutely hilarious. (To be fair, he was quite adorable.)

But every once in a while, it was just the two of them drinking at Daisuke's Shinjuku apartment.

To be fair, Ken, who had initially elected to stay with his parents during his college years, practically lived there by this point. He spent most of his free time with Daisuke and slept many nights on a pallet bed in the spare room. It was nice knowing he didn't have to go anywhere when they drank together.

Sometimes, though, that proved to be part of the problem.

The day had started with the Emperor's Cup—FC Tokyo versus Kyoto Sanga FC—and drinking cans of Yebisu Black. Neither Tokyo nor Kyoto were top-tier teams, but they rooted for Tokyo by default. Not that Ken was paying much attention; he kept getting distracted by Daisuke's animated expressions and gesticulations, which only grew more entertaining as he swallowed more of the dark lager.

In fact, Ken was so distracted he lost track of how much he'd been drinking, and when the game came to a close, Daisuke turned his full attention to his best friend—who was still staring at him with a dazed look. "You all right, Ken?" He shut off the television.

Ken bit his lip, then took another sip of his lager, nearing empty. "Yeah, I'm okay."

"You seem really out of it."

He gave a half-shrug. "I was just thinking about something."

"Other than the match?"

Ken nodded.

Daisuke cocked an eyebrow. "Like what?"

But Ken couldn't exactly explain how he'd been fantasizing about kissing him for the last hour. How he'd been watching his mouth and his lips…and his tongue when it happened to make an appearance.

Because that would be ridiculous.

Because any attraction there was definitely from the alcohol. Daisuke only ever wanted to kiss him while they were drunk, and Ken felt exactly the same way. Without the alcohol, they were just good friends. Best friends.

And that was okay too.

"Ken?" Daisuke leaned closer, brow furrowed, eyes searching him for defects. "You sure you're all right?"

He surged forward and dragged Daisuke into a kiss by the front of his peacock-blue T-shirt—a kiss Daisuke returned immediately. Their arms wove around each other, and they drew closer, closer, closer, until Ken was straddling his lap and tearing at his clothes.

Daisuke moaned into his mouth, and his callused fingers found the hem of Ken's shirt and yanked it up, barely breaking contact to pull it off before their lips reattached.

That stupid blue T-shirt was next, and when it was out of the way, Ken's tongue dragged a line down Daisuke's neck to the newly revealed skin. He shoved him back against the couch and leaned down to circle a nipple and suck it into his mouth. Daisuke gasped, and his hands flew down to clutch Ken's ass, holding him in place as his hips bucked.

Oh god.

He was hard, and Ken wanted him, and there was still too much clothing in between their bodies. Clothing that needed to go, goddammit.

Ken grazed his teeth over the erect bud and rolled his hips, but his hands—and his real attention—focused on the belt at his waist.

They'd put this off for far too long.

And now, drunken kisses weren't nearly enough.

He wanted more. He wanted skin and warmth and lips and hands—and he didn't want to pretend it hadn't happened in the morning. He didn't want to forget, and he definitely didn't want Daisuke to forget the way they felt moving as one.

When he tore the button of Daisuke's shorts undone, Daisuke panting and quivering beneath him—only then did he realize how deep his thoughts had traveled.

Oh shit.

He pulled back, eyes wide.

He wasn't supposed to get attached. Not like that.

And they definitely weren't supposed to take off each other's clothes or grope each other or do what Ken was sure they'd been about to do.

Beneath him, Daisuke just looked confused. Drunk and confused.

Ken bit his lip and stumbled off. "Sorry, sorry." He grabbed the shirt from the floor and stumbled away. "I, um, I'm tired. I'm going to go to bed."

Shit, that could be interpreted as an invitation.

Part of him wanted it to be one.

"My own bed," he amended. "The pallet bed. To sleep. Just sleep." He threw a quick goodnight over his shoulder and darted down the hallway to the spare room.

They hadn't set up the pallet bed yet because it wasn't that late, but Ken had to separate himself from that situation before they did something stupid, something they'd regret, something Daisuke might regret.

After bolting the door, Ken set up the bed faster than ever before and buried himself under the blankets.

He needed to sober up and stop thinking about kissing his best friend.

**+1**

Morning and sobriety, though, brought several things.

First, Ken hadn't slept all night. He'd laid in the pallet bed for hours, listening to Daisuke move around the apartment and eventually get ready for bed, then the silence of the night. Which brought no comfort. He played logic puzzles on his phone till it died and he realized he'd left his charger in his bag in the living room, along with all his other things. He didn't risk leaving the bedroom till four in the morning, when he could no longer deny his bladder, while Daisuke snored very obviously in his room. He made sure to grab the bag afterward before rushing back.

Second, Ken came to the uncomfortable realization that sobriety was not the savior he'd hoped it would be. Because even sober, he had a distinct urge to kiss and touch his best friend. Alcohol took away his inhibitions, but it definitely didn't give him desires that weren't already there under the surface. Alcohol couldn't create the attraction he felt.

And third, alcohol couldn't create the _feelings_ he felt either. Because it was more than just a desire to kiss him and touch him and be touched by him. He wanted to take him to bed, sure, but he also wanted to lean on him or cuddle him or, yes, kiss him during their everyday activities.

It was official.

Ken was an idiot.

He'd fallen in love with his best friend. Slowly, over the years, but it was real all the same. It was real and overwhelming and absolutely terrifying.

By the time sunlight streamed through the window, a knock sounded on the door. "Ken? You okay in there?" Daisuke paused, uncertain. "Do you want to talk about something?"

Yes.

Hell yes.

But was he just supposed to come right out and say it?

On the other side of the door, Daisuke heaved a sigh. "Well, if you change your mind, I'll be in the kitchen for breakfast."

Dammit.

He _was_ hungry.

And really, his need to use the toilet again would only grow the longer he hid in the spare room. Besides, hiding wouldn't solve anything in the long run.

It took another five minutes to force himself to his feet.

Another two to unlock the door.

Then a final two more minutes to actually open it.

He darted for the bathroom without issue, but when he came out, Daisuke was leaning against the wall at the end of the hallway and eating a bowl of cold cereal. Waiting for him.

Ken bit his lip. "Good morning."

Daisuke raised an eyebrow. "Morning."

He hesitated.

But Daisuke didn't. "You sleep all right?"

Ken shrugged, but the bags under his eyes must've been a dead giveaway—at least to Daisuke, who was fluent in his silent responses, enough to carry on a conversation despite how Ken only used one or two-word sentences and minute hand gestures.

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, he asked, "Breakfast?"

Daisuke nodded toward the kitchen, then led the way, taking bites of his cereal, and Ken trailed behind him.

In the kitchen, Daisuke propped himself against the counter and continued to eat while Ken filled a bowl with cereal and milk and picked at his food.

They ate in silence.

Uncomfortable silence.

Probably the most uncomfortable silence they'd experienced in a long time.

Ken had hoped they would be able to pretend it hadn't happened, just like all the times before. But the times before had only happened because of an outside force—a game or mistletoe or an accident or…

Well, he supposed Daisuke asking for a birthday kiss wasn't really an outside force, was it?

Even so, this time had been different. This time, they'd been alone and they'd kissed for no reason other than Ken had wanted to kiss him. And things had gotten heated. More heated than anything else he'd ever experienced.

This couldn't be pushed aside and ignored quite so easily.

Assuming Daisuke had been sober enough to remember what had happened to begin with. Or had he really been drunk?

Ken finished chewing, then set his bowl on the counter. "How much of last night do you remember?"

Daisuke didn't look at him. "You mean when you ran off for no reason?"

He frowned.

"Or do you mean the fact that we were probably about to have sex before you freaked out?"

Ken inhaled sharply.

And Daisuke didn't miss anything. "Ah, that."

"I, um…"

But what could he say? This was hardly the time to announce his undying love for his best friend.

Daisuke, though, took the opportunity from him. "I know we've only ever done it while drinking, but I feel like you should know I really like kissing you."

Ken swallowed. "You do?"

"That probably shouldn't be a surprise." Daisuke laughed as he set down his empty bowl. "I wouldn't keep doing it if I didn't enjoy it, if I didn't want to. Alcohol can't _create_ emotions that aren't already there."

He nodded.

Unfortunately, it had taken him too long to figure that out.

"So I guess that begs the question," Daisuke said. "Why do you keep kissing me?"

Ken bit back his answer.

But it didn't seem like Daisuke was looking for an answer—at least not yet—because he continued: "I know why _I_ kiss you."

He froze, barely daring himself to ask. "Why?"

Daisuke sent him an incredulous glance. "Because I fell for you, baka. But every single time, you just wanted to pretend it didn't happen. That sends a pretty clear message, don't you think?"

A smile, sad and pained but a smile nonetheless, spread across Ken's face. "No," he murmured, shifting closer, close enough they were almost touching, "I'm pretty sure the message has gotten very muddled."

When Daisuke glanced at him, eyes questioning, Ken wrapped his hands around his neck and dragged him into a fierce kiss.

Unlike all their previous kisses, this one didn't hold the same intoxicating qualities. It didn't drag them under and drown them in the undertow; instead, it smoldered with a glowing heat and warmed Ken from the inside out. It didn't send him careening over a cliff, forced to drag himself back to emotional safety; this kiss was the safety.

Daisuke was the safety.

They broke apart a moment later, but they hovered close, refusing to separate, and Ken's hands tangled in his hair like his life depended on their proximity.

"I'm sorry," he said after a while. "I'm sorry it took me so long to catch up. I never meant for you to wait for me."

Daisuke shrugged. "I didn't mind too much. I mean, after how long we've been friends, a year or two of waiting isn't the worst thing in the world." He quirked a smile.

"Well, I suppose we have a lot of lost time to make up for." And Ken leaned closer again to press another kiss to his lips.


End file.
